Out of Control



I want to elaborate on how bad things are getting around my community.  The name given for the dastardly deeds that out of control teenagers were doing a few years back was called “wilding”—the assault and mistreating of innocent people.  Similar concerns are moving back into our neighborhoods; having to do with blameless bystanders.

Yesterday afternoon my wife and I were enjoying a ride on my Harley Davidson motorcycle, because the weather was pleasant and turning warm.  We were stopped behind another vehicle waiting to turn left at a signal light on Ygnacio Valley Road in the bedroom community of Walnut Creek, California. 

I glanced to my right and noticed a male and female leering at us from across the street.  We were minding our own business and certainly didn’t want any trouble, but problems sometimes knock at inopportune times.  Out of control situations can happen quickly. 

The two stepped into traffic, against the light, and hurriedly walked toward us, staring intently as they drew near.  I thought they were going to get hit by oncoming vehicles, but they were unconcerned.  Creatures like this think they own the road and everyone should yield to their stupidity.

I thought they were going to pass between us and the car ahead, but they stopped at my front tire and said a few words that I didn’t understand.  He proceeded to walk around my bike with his female tag-along following closely behind. 

They were talking to each other under their breath in another language.  To this day I don’t know what I had done to get his feathers up, but he continued to look me straight in the eyes each time he circled my bike; strutting like a peacock.

Something was about to happen.  I revved my engine to encourage the person in front of me to run the light and allow me to get away from the situation that was becoming more and more uneasy.  She was watching intently in her rearview mirror; safe inside her car.  

Each time they circled they moved a little closer to us; staying just out of my reach.  They kept walking around and around about six or seven times.  It was obvious that he was on a peck and was challenging me for whatever reason.  I believe he was building up courage for his attack.  I also think he was just showing out for his companion.

He was a big dude and his mate was almost as husky as him.  By this time I was very nervous for my wife’s safety.  The tension was building; running high.  I was afraid to take on this scumbag turkey for fear of what the other might do to my wife.  

He was getting all puffed up and becoming more agitated and daring each time they circled.  He was certainly insistent in pursuing his agenda.  I could tell that he was getting a little cockier and out of control, because of the way he was moving and jabbering.  I was infuriated at this point. 

The old nature that the Lord had delivered me from in 1969 was raising its ugly head.  My temper was at its peak and I was ready to engage when suddenly my wife let out a bloodcurdling scream… “Get out of here!”

Her adrenaline was pumping out of control!  She was in a fight or flight mode!  Never had I seen this much anger demonstrated from her.  She then kicked at the female and shouted, “Leave us alone!”  The light turned green and I throttled the engine and took off, leaving them in the middle of the street.

I didn’t know how far the encounter would have escalated, but I was prepared to do whatever it took to protect us from harm even if it meant taking him by the throat and breaking his neck.  I was that worked up. 

My wife said later that she saw a motorist that had stopped in the outside lane, laughing as he watched the assault.  He was enjoying the incident; getting a kick out of another person’s misfortune.  The guy just set there, laughing, not doing anything to help.  This is one reason why things are getting out of control in our cities.  No-one wants to get involved anymore.

I’m going back to the same intersection, tonight, to see if I can meet up with the punk again; this time without my wife.  I want to see if he is as brave with me off my motorcycle as when I was on it.  I’m tired of out of control turkeys moving in and out of neighborhoods like they own them.  Something has to be done!

I’ve seen their kind throughout the city, but this is the first time I’ve ever encountered them acting this way.  Perhaps I failed to mention that the two perpetrators were wild turkeys…the gobble, gobble kind. 

They were probably looking at their reflection in the chrome of my motorcycle, or my exhaust pipes were too loud and hurt their ears.  The tom turkey may have been protecting his territory, because it was time to mate.  Who knows?  I only wish I had a video of what took place.  I would probably win first prize on “America’s Funniest Videos.”  

I thought you might need a chuckle today.

Written by,

Papa Boyd